


pieces of you

by last



Category: BTOB
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 14:13:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11037843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/last/pseuds/last
Summary: ilhoon wakes up and the hyunsik he had known has completely vanished, but he should have guessed that not even universes could keep them apart.





	pieces of you

**Author's Note:**

> hey everybody, i’m literally so sorry for how long it’s been since the last time i posted anything. it’s been a busy couple of months! anyway, i’ve had this sitting around forever meaning that i probably could have finished it almost two years ago (which is one of the reasons why btob are still living in their first dorm here). oh well.
> 
> it may be helpful for me to let you know that this is based on the concept of quantum immortality – in other words that when we die in one universe our consciousness may switch to another in which we continue to live, although there may be differences there such as in this fic. this is an au... about an au. yes, this is an angsty one, but the ending is supposed to be the best possible outcome if you exclude miraculous ones. i hope you enjoy it. ♡

Jung Ilhoon dies at exactly 11:30AM on a midsummer’s day.

The sun is sitting high up amongst a gathering of clouds, its light and sheer warmth falling across the bare skin of the pedestrians wandering around this morning, and Ilhoon’s last thought is about how beautiful it all is for some reason. He’s halfway over a crossing, headphones snug against his ears with the song he’s currently enamoured by blaring through the speakers. He doesn’t even see it coming.

The cause of death is a young driver behind the wheel of a brand new, flashy sports car speeding around the corner of the street and straight towards Ilhoon. The impact kills him instantly.

That means no final words other than the, “I’ll be back soon,” he had told everybody before leaving the dorm, and no real goodbye. (And also no chance to say he’s sorry for snapping at Eunkwang earlier, over the egg soup he made for breakfast of all things, although he never planned to.)

The next thing Ilhoon knows is that he’s lying on the ground, on what feels like cold, hard wooden flooring when he drags his fingers along it, slowly, and it hits him only a few seconds later that he isn’t hurt in the slightest. Not to mention that this doesn’t quite seem to be what he had imagined heaven to feel like either, if he’s meant to go there. As his consciousness gradually drifts back into him, he registers the familiar chatter surrounding him before he’s even opened his eyes, and once he does he finds Eunkwang and Minhyuk standing over him, possibly more astounded than he is. (Actually, no way – they aren’t the ones who just _died_ barely a minute ago.)

“Ilhoon? Oh, thank goodness you’re alright,” Minhyuk sighs with what sounds like a lifetime’s worth of relief finally escaping him at once, and the two of them help him to sit upright. It turns out that they’re in the practise room and in the mirror directly ahead of him, Ilhoon notices the blood has been drained from his face and his hair is in disarray, part of his forehead exposed. He thinks he looks a total wreck.

“Here,” Eunkwang holds out a bottle. “Drink some water,” he says, encouragingly, so Ilhoon does. “We were so worried about you.”

As he takes a long sip, the rest of this ‘we’ come over. There’s Sungjae, followed by Changsub, then Donggeun right behind him, and that’s all.

Ilhoon gives it a moment, but there’s nobody else and regrettably the first thing he ends up saying since waking up is, “Where’s Hyunsik-hyung?”

And his stomach plummets when the only word they collectively reply with is, “Who?”

“Hyunsik-hyung—”

“We don’t know who that is, Ilhoon,” Minhyuk insists, and at this point it has to be some kind of sick joke. Between this and, he assumes, dreaming about some asshole killing him, Ilhoon’s temper is slipping fast.

“Just stop it already—you _know_ who I’m talking about. Where is he hiding?”

But Eunkwang is calm when he speaks again, yet with utter conviction and concern – it seems nothing but genuine, “There’s no one here called that, Ilhoon, or anybody we know at all, I’m pretty sure.”

“What?”

“You’re probably still a bit dazed after this morning,” Minhyuk frowns.

“Wait, what happened?”

“You passed out during practise,” he continues, shaking his head. That’s a bit different to what Ilhoon remembers, but he supposes it’s better than being hit by a car. That, and being dead.

Regardless, it’s still not sitting right with him, “I did?”

“Yeah, you need to take it easy for the rest of the day. Maybe you should go and take a nap?” Minhyuk suggests, placing a hand on Ilhoon’s arm. It’s the warmest thing he’s felt so far.

“No, no, I’m fine. You’re right, I must be getting mixed up, but I’m fine,” Ilhoon manages to stand up, and they head for the dorm after calling off practise.

It’s anything other than fine though. By the time it’s the evening and they’re eating dinner together – rice with vegetables and leftover chicken – it doesn’t seem any more normal. There are six of them sitting at the table. Ilhoon counts again to make sure, and once more just in case, but he always stops at six. Each time he does it, he hopes it’ll become less strange, feel less alien, but all it does is the exact opposite. It has Ilhoon feeling ill to his stomach because he’s certain someone else should be here.

He should be sitting next to him right now like he always has done.

Ilhoon says his name under his breath so no one else will hear while they’re busy emptying out their bowls. _Hyunsik-hyung. Im Hyunsik._ It seems too familiar, he knows he can’t be mistaken. He knows he’s said it a thousand times before, and he’s heard it too, even in his voice. There is no possible way he could ever forget that voice with its warmth and, this he’s now almost afraid to remember, love. That he swears.

The way he would call _Ilhoon-ah_ from across a room and _Hoonie_ up close by his side – Ilhoon didn’t imagine any of this. He wonders where he could have gone instead of finishing his rice, and why.

In the bedroom, once it’s late and everybody’s tired, the makeshift bed that Ilhoon used to see on the ground each night is no longer there. That was Eunkwang’s bed this season, but now he’s climbing into the bunk that Ilhoon remembers belonging to Hyunsik. He almost gets angry at him, by instinct, but he knows. Hyunsik doesn’t sleep there anymore. Or, rather, he never has.

It seems to Ilhoon that he perhaps did die after all, and has landed himself in hell.

It’s because he snapped this morning, isn’t it?

 

 

 

 

(Ilhoon enters the practise room for the first time after officially becoming a trainee. The second he’s stepped inside and already started to avoid looking at the unfamiliar faces there, he kind of wishes he didn’t have to go through with this part. The ice-breaking and the bizarre exchanges of politeness despite everybody here knowing they’re, in essence, competing against each other to debut, he means.

There are eyes on him from all directions, against every part of his body, and they’re slowly pulling him apart with each stare.

Ilhoon hesitates to sit in a largely empty space near the door, continues to mind his own business the best he can, until a guy with a friendly sort of feeling to him decides to come over.

“Hi, I’m Hyunsik,” he smiles like it’s the greatest day of his life, although there’s no reason to. “What’s your name?”

Ilhoon thinks he’s being spoken to, so he replies in a small voice just in case he isn’t, “Ilhoon.”

“I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on,” Hyunsik sits down beside him without being invited to. “You’re one of the youngest here, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Ilhoon nods. “I turned fifteen in October.”

“Wow, you must be incredibly talented then,” he says, amazed, and from most people Ilhoon would think that was sarcastic or even condescending. For some reason it doesn’t seem that way at all.

“Not really,” Ilhoon shrugs. “I’m trying to become a composer. And a producer.”

“What a coincidence,” Hyunsik smiles again and Ilhoon just can’t figure out why he’s so cheery. “So am I. Maybe we could work together someday?”

“Yeah,” Ilhoon replies, and without realising it the frown on his face has disappeared completely.)

 

 

 

 

For a few days, Ilhoon attempts to adjust to whatever prank the world is playing on him. He discovers that the studio is only his now, and he would be pleased about having one to himself if he didn’t feel like crap whenever he sits in there or even walks by the door. He still expects to open it to find Hyunsik behind the computer, or keyboard, and all of his Mickey Mouse merchandise spread about the place – the dolls, his mug, everything. Then he’ll swivel his chair around and call him over with the brightest smile that nobody else could ever compete with. _Ilhoon-ah, come in._ He can hear him in his head whenever he enters.

That makes his stomach turn the most.

Back at the dorm, Sungjae announces he’s hungry, and nobody is interested in trying to cook today. The six of them agree to go out to their favourite curry restaurant for lunch (although Ilhoon gave more of a half-hearted nod which counted anyway). Simply because it’s the empty seat left for him on a separate table as the rest have already chosen theirs, Ilhoon sits opposite Eunkwang and that’s nothing out of the ordinary, but he’d always be beside Hyunsik too and it’s only the two of them now. Once the food arrives, it doesn’t taste as good as Ilhoon remembers either, and he doesn’t have it in him to clean his bowl out. Hyunsik would eat whatever Ilhoon couldn’t finish, without fail, but nobody else would want to do that.

Why would they? There was no real reason for Hyunsik to in the first place, but he always did it anyway.

“Ilhoon,” Minhyuk leans across the other table – he always notices. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Ilhoon lies, biting down on his lip straight after so it won’t show on his face.

“Are you sure?” he continues as the three sitting with him look over.

Ilhoon nods without saying another word.

Afterwards it’s back to practise and they’re rehearsing a song that they haven’t in a while because there’s a concert soon. Not that he’d forgotten completely, but Ilhoon is suddenly being reminded that he and Hyunsik would always do a little something in the middle and change it up each time.

He has no clue who is singing his lines now, or if he still has to take their hand and drape his arm around them. He kind of hopes he doesn’t because, really, nobody could be the same as Hyunsik.

Instead, Ilhoon manages to stand around so out of place when Minhyuk steps into the centre and the choreography is moves he hasn’t ever seen before let alone done himself, that even Changsub notices. They drop it all one by one, confused like he hasn’t messed up before in his life.

Sungjae is the one who sighs the loudest. He asks, probably harsher than he intended and Ilhoon knows he doesn’t mean it – he never does, “Hyung, what’s gotten into you?”

Ilhoon can’t help it though, not when he’s been holding everything in since this started and keeping it together doesn’t get easier by the day like he had hoped. There’s a storm brewing in his heart, and nobody seems to get it. He doesn’t expect them to, they _can’t_. More than anything he’s sorry that he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to react when it’s none of their faults and he’s well-aware of that.

He’s sorry that he pushes Eunkwang’s arm away, shoves past Sungjae the hardest with an ice-cold look on his face, saying, “Just leave me alone—” and he chokes a bit on his own words. “All of you—”

“Ilhoon...” Minhyuk calls after him, but he’s already halfway across the room and heading straight for the door.

Ilhoon doesn’t slam it. He doesn’t do that anymore, but having to control the urge takes more effort than it has any other time this year.

At least he knows he’s good at it now.

 

 

 

 

(Ilhoon hears Hyunsik’s singing voice for the first time by accident.

It’s while he’s searching for an empty practise room, one with a piano that he can use in peace, because he still hasn’t quite gotten the hang of being around all of these strangers. Most of them are nice – it’s not that they aren’t – it just takes Ilhoon some time to adjust to new people.

There’s a door left ajar towards the end of the corridor, the light inside is switched on and, as Ilhoon gets closer, he starts to hear a song. He doesn’t recognise it – he kind of wishes he did, actually – or who the voice belongs to.

But it sounds warm, perhaps even familiar, although he’s sure he’s never heard it before. If he had, he reckons that there’s no way he would have forgotten. It’s the type of voice he’d remember for the rest of his life, and now he will.

Ilhoon takes another step, and one more until he can peek inside and find Hyunsik sitting there, behind the keyboard, the word ‘lately’ rolling off of his tongue so perfectly.

At the back of his mind he had hoped it was him.

Ilhoon decides there and then that it’s his favourite, but he’s not going to tell a soul. He likes him way too much for somebody he doesn’t even know yet.)

 

 

 

 

Things are not that different a week later. Ilhoon’s getting used to their formations as six when they practise, he maybe doesn’t find it as odd that there’s no bed on the floor anymore, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss it. The studio doesn’t truly feel like his, and he doesn’t think it could ever. To him, it’s still Hyunsik’s more than anything. It always was and will be.

And it only makes focusing even harder.

Ilhoon takes walks at night sometimes, wanders around the city when all that’s helping him to see where he’s going are the streetlights and whatever’s open this late. In all honesty, it doesn’t do much to clear his head, but it does serve as a temporary distraction before he returns home again.

(It’s nicer to unlock the front door when everyone else is already asleep so he doesn’t have to answer any questions or listen to them say that they’re worried like they keep doing day in and day out. Really, he’s glad that they mean well, but every now and then it feels like he can’t breathe at all and he just needs to be alone for a while.)

Tonight Ilhoon takes a new route, tries the part of the city where there’s still ramen and soju being sold, but he’s not after either of them. Or anything in particular but a bit of freedom. He passes by dimly lit restaurants, bars that seem empty, and continues walking until there are a few more people ahead. They’re watching a busker, only for a moment, and then they’re off again.

Ilhoon pauses his music. He removes his headphones, and he recognises the voice before the face, because he isn’t wearing his glasses and he’s not close enough to see on his own yet.

It’s Hyunsik and there’s no mistaking it.

He knows it by the way his entire body seems to freeze the second he registers his voice, how he momentarily sees white in his mind like the clouds in there have faded, not just how Hyunsik sounds exactly like he did the first time Ilhoon had heard him sing.

There’s a distance kept between them: a safe one so while Hyunsik’s face is finally clear – the curves of his closed eyes and the small flashes of teeth while he strums his guitar are the same as Ilhoon remembers – it’s not like he’s watching him in a way that’s _peculiar_ or perhaps overly obvious, although he’s now the only person standing there.

Hyunsik’s good, of course he is. He sounds so beautiful, raw and deserving of something much more than this, but Ilhoon’s heard this before and holding it together is taking everything in him.

So he turns around once he’s listened to all that he can manage, seen Hyunsik smile a few times between lines although it made him so numbingly afraid rather than happy, and heads back the way he had come from. That’s when the music stops.

“Excuse me,” footsteps trail behind Ilhoon and he finds Hyunsik standing there, guitar slung over his back. “If you don’t mind me asking, have we met before? You seem so familiar.”

Ilhoon allows their eyes to meet once before his own divert their gaze and focus on the print on Hyunsik’s t-shirt instead, “I really don’t know.”

“Hmm, perhaps you just give off that feeling then.”

“Yeah, that could be it,” Ilhoon shrugs, the inside of his mouth drying up by the second as he tries to say more. “Or you’ve seen me on television, if you’re into idol groups by any chance.”

“Oh—I’m so sorry, I had no idea—”

“Well, it’s not like we’re that famous.”

“Between the two of us, you’re the most famous person here right now, so that’s something,” he offers Ilhoon a bright smile for no additional cost. “Which company are you under?”

“Cube.”

“Ah,” Hyunsik shakes his head, like he’s a bit embarrassed, and Ilhoon holds his breath, waiting for him to continue. “I auditioned for them some years back, but I didn’t make it.”

And Ilhoon continues to hold it, then swallows it down with the lump trapped in his throat.

“To think that we could have ended up training together if I hadn’t given up. That’s strange, isn’t it?” Hyunsik asks.

But Ilhoon doesn’t answer his question, and instead there’s a sternness in his voice when he asks back, “Why did you?”

“They made their decision, and that’s how life is,” he shrugs, nonchalantly.

That’s right. This isn’t Hyunsik. Sure, he looks exactly like him, he’s got the smile that Ilhoon’s never seen on anybody else, and he’s nice to him like most strangers aren’t, but that’s it. There’s no fire burning inside of him like Ilhoon used to know, because if he had it he wouldn’t have given up, but more than anything he just wants to know why.

He wants to know what made this Hyunsik different to his.

“I feel like you’re disappointed for some reason,” he says to Ilhoon after sharing a moment of silence with him.

“Not really,” Ilhoon denies it because he has to remember this is a stranger, whether he already knows his secrets or not. “Anyway, I have to get going.”

Ilhoon turns to leave again and in that same second he decides that he’ll try his hardest to never run into this Hyunsik again, for his own sake, and if he does happen to spot him, he’ll pretend otherwise. They’re meeting four years later than before and that’s longer than he would like to think.

Unfortunately, as Ilhoon should have guessed, it’s not that easy when Hyunsik still has more to say.

“Um, by the way,” _don’t._ “I’m Hyunsik,” _please, don’t._ “What’s your name?”

A vivid vision of a seventeen-year-old Hyunsik smiling at him for the first time comes flooding back into Ilhoon’s mind, as clear as ever, before he eventually replies, “Ilhoon.”

And he stays there, like nothing in the world is strong enough to take him away from him completely. (Well, that’s Hyunsik after all. He’s always had a knack for being by Ilhoon’s side no matter what got in his way.)

“God, are you okay?” Hyunsik – this other Hyunsik who’s standing in front of Ilhoon right now – asks, eyes as wide as they can get.

“What?”

“You’re crying—”

“Oh—” Ilhoon reaches for his face, wipes under his eyes with his fingertips, and he realises Hyunsik’s telling the truth. “I’m fine—really—I’m fine—”

“If it’s something I said—”

“It’s not—” Ilhoon holds an arm out to keep Hyunsik at his distance.

“I’m sorry.”

That isn’t what Ilhoon wants to hear. Hyunsik should be holding him right now, saying it’s okay, and that he’s got him – not apologising because that’s never worked. Sometimes he’d touch his hair and it’d soothe him for a reason he couldn’t put into words and explain, but that may not ever happen again.

“It’s not.”

“Pardon?” Hyunsik asks and he’s still puzzled.

“I said,” Ilhoon pauses as his throat tightens up. “It’s not your fault. And I have to go.”

He pushes past Hyunsik, perhaps not quite as hard as he did when it was Sungjae the other day because there’s still this tenderness reserved for him in his heart, and heads off like he was supposed to.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Hyunsik calls out after him and all Ilhoon wants to do is turn around and tell him to stop and leave him alone, that it’s none of his business and to forget about him, to forget about caring about some stranger although he knows better than anybody that this is how Hyunsik is.

He continues on his way and Hyunsik doesn’t follow him any further. He makes it back to the dorm, and shuts the door without the slightest noise.

 

 

 

 

(“Ilhoonie-hyung likes Hyunsikie-hyung,” Sungjae sneers and Ilhoon knows that he’s joking around, that he’s only playing because that’s what he does, but he still fights the urge to shove him hard. “Admit it.”

“No—”

“You’re so _red_ ,” he grins widely, stares right into Ilhoon’s eyes and it makes him look away. “You’ve got a crush on him.”

“I don’t—”

He does.)

 

 

 

 

There’s a knock on the door of the studio – Ilhoon’s somehow gotten used to sitting in here alone because it’s a place where he can hide from everybody for the most part. (Nothing of Hyunsik’s is here anyway, not his Andy Warhol figures or the skateboard he bought solely for decoration.) Sungjae steps inside and there’s a hesitance to him today.

“Hyung, I’m sorry about the other day,” he says while still standing by the door.

“It’s fine, Sungjae. It wasn’t your fault,” Ilhoon insists because it shouldn’t have been a big deal – he knows that – but it’s too tough to not be touchy at the moment, as much as he tries not to snap anymore. “I... I’m just having a hard time.”

“I wish there was something that I could do to help.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think there is,” Ilhoon lowers his head to avoid Sungjae’s sympathetic gaze, just wants him and every one of them to stop feeling so sorry for him so he can at least believe that he’s his usual self, that it’s all fine. He knows that there isn’t a single thing any of them can do about this.

“By the way, I’ve been wondering,” Sungjae takes one step forwards. “The guy you were asking about when you fainted, who was that?”

Only somebody who Ilhoon loved more than most things in life and he had expected to go to the end of the world with.

He forces a smile, “No one. Don’t worry about it.”

“It seemed like you really wanted to see him,” Sungjae continues, in his typical fashion.

“It—it doesn’t matter,” Ilhoon brushes it off again although he had perhaps considered, for even a second, telling him everything. Who would believe him anyway? “I was just dreaming or something.”

“Alright,” Sungjae reaches for the door handle and unlatches it. “I hope that you’re okay.”

“Yeah. I am.”

Ilhoon’s told more lies this month than he had from the day he was born up until the day he had died, and let’s say that he’s never been the completely truthful kind.

 

 

 

 

(“I’ve heard some things,” Hyunsik says and his voice is low, much quieter than usual too. He turns from his computer and Ilhoon holds his breath – he shouldn’t have held onto the hope that perhaps Sungjae wouldn’t meddle. “I’ve heard that when somebody likes another person, just hearing their voice, even their name, will make them smile.”

Nevermind. Seems like Sungjae _does_ know how to keep that mouth of his shut.

“Is that why I’m smiling right now?” Hyunsik asks and Ilhoon wishes he knew the answer.

“I don’t know,” he replies.

“I’ve also heard that, for some people, it’s difficult to maintain eye contact,” Hyunsik tilts his head and he stares. “Could you look at me, Ilhoon-ah?”

“Hyung—”

“I guess I should just make it easier and say that I like you, shouldn’t I?” he laughs to himself, shakes his head like he’s a bit ashamed. “But when we’ve been—well, friends for so long now, I feel like I should know better.”

“What do you mean?” Ilhoon asks, sitting up straight.

“That I should have resisted.”

“When you could kiss me instead.”

Guess those are some magic words to Hyunsik when hearing them makes him do just that, and Ilhoon’s sure he knows what he’s talking about now.)

 

 

 

 

Through fighting all of the hesitation in his heart, the voice telling him that he shouldn’t, Ilhoon regularly finds himself coming back to the street Hyunsik had been busking on. On some nights he’s elsewhere, not too far off – Ilhoon listens for his voice and follows it to wherever he is. He’s well aware that he’ll never be the person he used to know, he doesn’t need reminding, but as much as he gets that, he just can’t seem to let him go. Not yet.

Guess this is how it is when he hasn’t gotten any real closure and there’s no chance of it either.

Once Hyunsik’s had enough of singing, Ilhoon can’t help but accept his offer to have a drink with him at a cozy little bar that hardly anybody goes to. (Perhaps he’ll say no to him eventually, but for now it seems impossible.) They take the same seats each time, sit side by side and talk the night away. Sometimes, just sometimes, Ilhoon almost forgets that they aren’t even friends.

“I don’t think I’ve ever asked, but is there someone special in your life, Ilhoon?” Hyunsik asks out of the blue, and nothing in their conversation so far had prompted it.

Ilhoon isn’t sure where this will head, but he admits, “Well, we have a lot of restrictions, you know, but there used to be.”

“Oh, really? What were they like?”

He holds his breath for a moment as he reluctantly recalls so that he won’t cry this time, clutches onto his glass tighter to hold it all in. He slowly exhales.

“He was one of the most important people in my life. I never told him that, maybe he knew, but he was,” he says without looking at Hyunsik. “I wish that I had. Actually, there are a bunch of things I wish I had said now.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Sorry for what – for leaving Ilhoon behind, for not being the person he used to know, for taking so much with him that Ilhoon doesn’t even know what to do with himself now—no, he isn’t supposed to blame Hyunsik either. There’s nobody to blame, yet that doesn’t relieve Ilhoon’s anger and upset, just makes where he should place them all the more confusing.

“It’s fine. Some things can’t be helped, I guess,” he tells himself as well as Hyunsik. “But I... I just can’t get over him.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s okay,” he shakes his head, and he pauses. The world didn’t give him closure, but maybe he can find his own. “I’m not sure if this is weird, but could I talk to you about him? I feel like... I feel like maybe you’d listen to me.”

“Yes, of course.”

“I don’t really know where to start,” Ilhoon crosses his arms. “I mean, he was everything.”

“Then, what did you like the most about him?” Hyunsik asks and he gives him a smile to go on.

“Well, to be honest, there was something about him,” Ilhoon supposes. “Set him apart from most people. You see, he never laughed at me unless I was trying to be funny, and even when I tried and failed he would still laugh. He... he was kind. Sure, I’ve met plenty of kind people, but he had a tenderness to him that nobody else did,” _he was just like you._ “I loved him but, most importantly, he loved me back. And I knew that.”

“He does sound special,” Hyunsik nods, and there’s still something about him even now.

“I just don’t know why I couldn’t tell him that I loved him when I wanted to,” Ilhoon pauses, bites down on his bottom lip as he tries to stop every regret he’s been holding onto from getting to him again. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

“You aren’t,” Hyunsik takes hold of Ilhoon’s shoulder, almost startles him. “Where is he now, Ilhoon? Maybe you could try calling him?”

“I—I can’t—I mean, there’s no way for me to get in touch with him. He’s just gone.”

“I’m really sorry,” Hyunsik lets go and Ilhoon isn’t too sure if he feels better or worse.

“Please don’t apologise to me anymore,” he insists although he can hardly bear to look Hyunsik directly in the eye. “It’s not like it’s your fault.”

Hyunsik stares back at him, perhaps confused. Of course it has nothing to do with him – they both know that. Ilhoon knows that he’s projecting and he can’t help it, simply because this Hyunsik is all that he has left of him in this universe. Everything else was lost the second he was.

“Anyway, how about you? I’m sure you have somebody,” Ilhoon attempts to steer the conversation away from himself.

Hyunsik lets out a small laugh, “Well, we’ve been dating since high school. I guess it wasn’t so bad that I never made it past auditions if it meant us staying together.”

Ilhoon remembers her – the girl Hyunsik ended up breaking up with during their trainee years and the hundreds of nights he had spent before that just wondering what it’d be like if he was in her place, if they had met earlier, if he was Hyunsik’s entire world. A typical fifteen-year-old with the hugest and most ridiculous crush, he supposes.

“That’s a long time,” Ilhoon says and perhaps a piece of his heart breaks, knowing that at least one of those years was his. “You must be aiming for forever.”

“Things change,” Hyunsik smiles at him. “I don’t know if we’ll always be like this, but for now, I’m happy enough.”

“Then, I hope that you’ll always be happy,” Ilhoon smiles back, and Hyunsik looks at him confused once again, as if he’s purposely trying to be mysterious but he’s doing anything but. He means every one of those words, even if it isn’t with him, because life might be emptier for Ilhoon now but if Hyunsik’s is worth it then surely he’ll find it in him to let him go, to leave him alone now.

 

 

 

 

(“Ilhoon-ah, I want to ask you something,” Eunkwang finds him alone in the bedroom – a rare moment when the seven of them are still all stuck here together. A few of them have been noisy in the living room for the past hour, enjoying soccer on the television like they always have done but Ilhoon couldn’t bring himself to join them. He’s never been a fan of sports anyway. “Truthfully, I’ve been curious about you and Hyunsikie.”

“Us?” he feels a twinge in his chest but he knew that they wouldn’t be able to hide this for long.

Eunkwang nods, “Yes, and I know that it isn’t my business, but could I ask if the two of you... is there something that I’m missing here?”

“I guess there is, but I don’t really want to talk—”

“That’s okay. I didn’t want you to, but I just needed to know,” Eunkwang smiles at him and it feels okay, it actually does. “He’s always been the best at taking care of you, hasn’t he?”

“Hyung, it—it’s not about that,” Ilhoon lowers his head, doesn’t want to give him a concrete yes or no. “I need to learn how to live on my own too, don’t I?”

Eunkwang simply shrugs, “You’re a smart kid, Ilhoon. Life is always nicer with somebody by your side though, don’t you think? Looks like you’ve found that person already.”)

 

 

 

 

Ilhoon spends too much time just lying on his bed, staring at the bunk above his or the inside of his eyelids these days. It probably makes him feel worse – actually, he’s pretty sure that it does – but nothing makes him want to do much else than this. There isn’t such thing as enough sleep anymore when each morning he doesn’t seem to wake up with any more energy than when he had went to bed. The energy to live, to simply exist.

He rolls over and rests the side of his face into his pillow. He would lie like this with Hyunsik from time to time, the two of them spooning when they didn’t want to work on their little projects. He feels a sudden weight sink the bottom of his mattress and he looks over.

“Ilhoon-ah, where do you go at night?” Eunkwang asks and he places a hand on Ilhoon’s calf. “Sometimes I happen to wake up, and you’re gone.”

“The studio,” he replies.

“Really?”

“I take walks,” he corrects himself, thinking that he probably shouldn’t lie. “I have trouble sleeping.”

“You’ve been slightly off for a while now,” Eunkwang frowns at him, and he almost feels sorry. “One day you just stopped being you.”

“What am I supposed to tell you?”

That one of the most vital pieces of his life vanished just like that and there’s no such thing as rekindlement when nothing between him and Hyunsik had ever existed in this world? That sometimes he considers walking into oncoming traffic with the hope of being hit again, just for the sole possibility that it could take him to a universe where Hyunsik is his? But then he’s got a fear that he’ll wake up as the one who didn’t make it into the group instead of Hyunsik, or neither of them did and there’d be an even slimmer chance of them ever meeting as two ordinary people living miles apart in the cities they respectively call home. At least here he knows where he is.

“Can’t you talk to me?” Eunkwang asks and there’s a plea in his voice. “Tell me what’s wrong and if there’s anything I can do—”

“I don’t think there is,” Ilhoon stops him before it all becomes too much, before Eunkwang starts to feel guilty when none of this has anything to do with him in the first place. “It’s fine, hyung. I’ll get over it.”

“You’ve always been too good at sucking up your feelings. That’s why I’m always thinking about you.”

Ilhoon appreciates the sentiment, he really does, but he wishes that Eunkwang didn’t care as much as he does. It’d make things easier.

 

 

 

 

(“Aren’t you excited, Ilhoon-ah?” Hyunsik hugs him from behind, startles him just a bit as he drags him down onto his lap. They’re only in the studio and nobody else is around. “We’re going to Japan.”

Ilhoon nods with enthusiasm, “Do you think we could go shopping?”

“If we have the time,” Hyunsik’s arms squeeze around his waist and his nose presses into his neck. “Are you still wanting that jacket? I’ll get it for you.”

“Hyung—you don’t have to,” he stifles a laugh but he’s flattered by the offer. Even if he’s insisted otherwise, he wouldn’t mind if Hyunsik went ahead with it.

“Don’t have to, but want to,” he quietly laughs and Ilhoon senses the warm air from his nose against his skin. The feeling of comfort.)

 

 

 

 

 **[18:35] hyunsik:** you’re heading for japan?

 **[18:37] ilhoon:** yeah

 **[18:38] hyunsik:** wow, are you excited?

 **[18:39] ilhoon:** i guess so

 **[18:39] ilhoon:** i don’t really know

 **[18:41] hyunsik:** well, you should tell me about it once you’re back ^^

Ilhoon doesn’t exactly recall at which point he and Hyunsik had exchanged numbers, only that it just made sense after however many nights together. A mistake on his part? Probably, but when Hyunsik asked he really didn’t have it in him to create an excuse on the spot and caved after too long of a hesitation.

It isn’t so bad. Sure, he’ll never shake him at this rate, but he keeps him company during long hours of rehearsal and it’s comforting in a way. Hyunsik texts just how he remembers and he doesn’t feel so missing from his life anymore, even if they aren’t anything to each other but friends if that. It’s better than strangers. Ilhoon couldn’t stay away for long no matter how many times he had told himself to – he’s weak like that, weak when it comes to Hyunsik – and maybe this could be better for him. He doesn’t know.

Some distance will be kept between them anyway. Being abroad for a few weeks ought to keep Ilhoon occupied, both physically and in his head. It’s been a while since they’ve promoted and he’s going to learn how to keep a smile on his face again whether he likes it or not. Baby steps, that’s what he needs to take.

He ends up rooming with Minhyuk and that’s most likely for the best. He’s sensitive to others, knows when to leave them alone and how to approach them if he thinks he should. Ilhoon sits on his bed and he scrolls through his texts with Hyunsik – shallow conversations, simple questions and generic answers. Nothing that lasts too long or gets too deep.

“Talking to somebody?” Minhyuk asks from across the room.

Ilhoon tosses his phone onto the mattress, “No.”

“Want the rest of these chips?” Minhyuk holds up the bag he’s been rustling for the past fifteen minutes.

“I’m fine. You eat them,” Ilhoon picks up his phone again and unlocks it.

“What are you waiting on? You seem bothered.”

“Do I?” he asks back.

“I guess,” Minhyuk shrugs. “I don’t know. It isn’t any of my business, is it?”

“It’s just a friend,” Ilhoon replies, but he won’t get any further into it than that. “Nothing’s up. All I need is something to do around here.”

Minhyuk turns to the television on the wall, “Watch a movie.”

“Not that,” Ilhoon crosses his arms and he lies back against the pillow. “I’ll just go to sleep.”

“Alright,” Minhyuk doesn’t question him any further – probably knows that he shouldn’t bother. “Night, Ilhoon.”

 

 

 

 

(“Hyung,” Ilhoon calls out while Hyunsik’s working on something at the computer, and he totally stops to give him his undivided attention. “When you’re upset, what do you do?”

“Me? I guess that I think about all of the blessings I have in life,” he reaches out and expects Ilhoon to offer him his hand, so he does. “The good things, the people who care about me. I feel grateful and I forget about whatever it was that I was hung up on.”

“It works that well?” he asks, slightly skeptical that it would even be half as helpful to him.

“Yeah. I’d reckon it does,” Hyunsik nods, and he tightens his grip just a bit. “Are you feeling down right now?”

“No, I was just wondering. I want to try a little harder to change, to be better than this,” Ilhoon replies, hoping that he gets what he means by that.

“It’s okay to allow yourself to be sad, angry, anything. What we do... it isn’t easy.”

“I know, but I... I make things so difficult for everybody, even more than they should be—”

“You’re not a nuisance,” Hyunsik says and that’s all, but it’s enough for Ilhoon to want to accept it as fact.

He thinks that he could love himself one day.)

 

 

 

 

 **[11:21] ilhoon:** hey

 **[11:23] ilhoon:** i’m going to be really busy for the rest of the month so i won’t be able to talk to you as much

 **[11:24] ilhoon:** sorry

It’s for the best, he figures. The chances of Hyunsik ever seeing him the way he used to are slim – he knows that – so why keep this up any longer. It’s all in vain and the harder he clings to this the more it’ll break him when reality comes crashing down onto him. He’s got to be smarter.

And he could completely delete Hyunsik’s number, even block it while he’s at it, but he can’t quite bring himself to go that far yet. He’s got to learn restraint. He should be far too occupied with everything anyway, exhausted by the end of each day to the point that he shouldn’t have time to waste. And that’s precisely what it is – time-wasting, nothing more.

This break between events is coming to an end and he’s got to head back out there soon enough, then in the evening there’s a radio appearance before dinner. He’d made some kind of effort to brush up on his Japanese back at home although, now that he’s here, he’s forgetting more often than he would like. He supposes it’s one of those blessings to keep him going that the fans actually find it endearing, start to cheer so loudly that it’s cute and that at least wanes his initial embarrassment. He reminds himself to be thankful as often as he remembers.

“Ilhoon,” Donggeun holds up the camera he had bought a couple of days ago and points it right at him. “Smile!”

So he cracks a big, bright one by instinct, like he’s been doing so this entire week. Keep it up for long enough and it’ll become one hundred real, he’s been telling himself.

“Hyung, what are you going to do with that?” he asks, watching Donggeun press some buttons.

“I dunno, save it for a rainy day?” he grins.

“What does that even mean—don’t tell me you’re going to blackmail me with it,” Ilhoon jokes with an eye roll that he hopes doesn’t seem too convincing.

“No way, it looks good,” Donggeun insists, showing it to him and he’s actually quite right.

“Thanks,” Ilhoon snorts but he really didn’t intend to sound sarcastic. Donggeun gives him a funny glare and he whines, “ _hyung_ —hey, I meant it!”

The thing Ilhoon likes about Donggeun is that he isn’t one to be pushy. He doesn’t ask about the things that don’t directly concern him, doesn’t stick his nose into other people’s business unless he absolutely must. Still, he wouldn’t tell him about Hyunsik. He’s his secret, and even Donggeun may not believe him.

“You seem happier these days,” Donggeun says before reconsidering. “Not that it’s got anything to do with me—”

“Yeah, I’m feeling better,” Ilhoon nods and he realises that he has.

He’s no longer as hung up on Hyunsik now that he’s got other things to focus on and can’t see him whether he likes it or not. Alright, he’ll admit that he still thinks about him whenever he wakes up because that’s how it’s always been, but time’s supposed to be a healer even if it’s gradual. He’s got this, he’s sure he does.

 

 

 

 

(Ilhoon doesn’t mean to go through periods of hopelessness, or let his mind convince him that they’re never going to amount to anything despite all that they do. It’s just that the momentum has faded at this point and the only thing he’s been left with is uncertainty. He lies back on the couch in the studio and he stares up at the ceiling.

“Will things ever change,” he mutters, not even sure that he wants to get into this yet again. “Will we ever go anywhere from here, or will we just keep going on like this for nothing.”

“I... I don’t know,” Hyunsik replies, and Ilhoon hears him slowly spin in his chair. “I want to tell you that we’re going to make it someday, I want to more than anything, but I can’t.”

“Hyung—”

“But when—if we do, we’ll know that we did it together, and everybody will recognise the genius composer, Jung Ilhoon.”

He sits up to find Hyunsik smiling at him, a spark of hope in the dark, and he smiles right back.

“And you,” he says.

Forget about him, Hyunsik’s a star waiting to be discovered. At times it feels as if the entire world is fast asleep, but it’s going to have to wake up eventually. Even if that means waiting for what could seem like an eternity – they’ve gotten used to it anyway.)

 

 

 

 

The hallway leading towards the elevators is empty as far as Ilhoon can see. He leaves his room and heads over there, checking the time on his phone once more. He hears a door latch somewhere behind him, scurrying steps all of a sudden and he takes a quick glance over his shoulder. It’s Changsub with a coffee in one hand and his other in his sweatpants’ pocket. If he was to fall right now, Ilhoon wouldn’t want anything to do with it.

“Hey, Ilhoon,” he fortunately catches up to him without any casualties, and he seems rather upbeat. It must be the caffeine. “Don’t tell a soul, but I overheard something last night—don’t look at me like that, listen. Our single did so well that we might be releasing a new album back at home sooner than expected.”

Now that’s captured his interest, “Oh yeah?”

“Uh-huh, and y’know what else I heard?” Changsub leans into his shoulder as if he’s going to get into some kind of trouble for this. “Well, you’re probably gonna be asked for a song or two. No idea if you’ve been working on much but—”

“I can whip up something once we’re done here,” Ilhoon shrugs, no problem.

“We’re counting on you, alright?” Changsub shoots him a wink before taking a long and incredibly loud sip of his coffee. “And you’d better give me the best lines for telling you this.”

“No promises there,” Ilhoon smirks at him although he _may_ try.

The only thing that breaks his heart about this is that things are finally looking up and Hyunsik isn’t around to feel it, to have his work amount to this at last. This was his dream as much as Ilhoon’s, as much as all of theirs. Hyunsik who dedicated everything he had to their music is the one missing, and it isn’t Ilhoon’s fault, it really isn’t, yet it’s him who bears the guilt.

And here he had been doing so well on his own these past weeks.

 

 

 

 

(They’re packing for home when something comes to Ilhoon’s mind, almost completely unprompted. He isn’t even certain how he had arrived at this in the first place, but now that it’s stuck in his head he’s got to ask.

“Hyung, I have a question. Maybe a slightly odd one, though,” he hesitates just a bit, but he’s already opened his mouth.

Hyunsik looks over from the other side of the room and he tells him, “Go ahead.”

“If you were reborn, what would you change about yourself?”

“Me? I don’t know,” he drops the shirt he’s folding to walk over and sit on the bed closest to Ilhoon. “Actually, now that I think about it, I don’t think that I’d change anything. I’d be born again, exactly like this, and I’d meet you again, and I’d love you all over again.”

“You don’t want to try living a little differently?” Ilhoon asks before Hyunsik’s answer has even properly sunken in.

“Well, whatever you want to be in another life, I’ll come and find you,” he just smiles, even if things aren’t perfect as they are right now and they both know it.

“And how will you know that it’s me?” Ilhoon laughs to himself, not wanting this to become too serious after all.

“I just will,” Hyunsik grins, teeth fully showing. “If it’s meant to be, two people will always find each other again, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” Ilhoon wants to agree, truly wants to believe that that could be possible in a world of seven billion people and counting.)

 

 

 

 

They return to Seoul the following week. Nobody’s mentioned anything about a comeback since Changsub brought it up so Ilhoon’s going to take his time as he pleases, and he hasn’t heard from Hyunsik in what feels like much longer than it actually has been. Life had started to move on without him, and Ilhoon knows that’s for the better because that means finally letting go, but he just needs one more night. He just needs to know that he’s still happy without him.

It’s getting cooler these days. He wraps a scarf around his face to venture into the chilly night, but more so to hide himself from the world. He had checked that everybody was asleep before creeping to the front door, and he’s heading down with only one destination in mind – the street on which that they had met for the first time in this universe.

He listens carefully with every step that he takes, waits for that voice to be heard. He arrives at the corner of the street and turns with a deep inhale.

And then he spots him under a streetlight, guitar in his hands, lost in the music. Ilhoon gets a bit closer, but not enough to be noticed unless Hyunsik was to stop and look his way. He’s singing something melancholic tonight, unknown to Ilhoon and he wonders if it’s one of his own creations. He would leave right now if he wasn’t utterly captivated. All he had wanted to find out was if he was still out here, doing what he always does.

He doesn’t even flinch when the song inevitably comes to an end and Hyunsik’s staring back at him. His eyes are no longer dry as he watches him walk over to him, but he holds it all in.

“I didn’t know you were back,” Hyunsik says, but from his face he isn’t upset about it.

“Sorry, I—I just thought that I would surprise you,” Ilhoon lowers his face into his scarf as if that’ll make his lie less obvious.

Hyunsik seems to buy it regardless, “Well, since you’re here, how about we have a drink? Like we used to.”

“I don’t see why not,” Ilhoon agrees because what he really wanted was more time with him, if he can’t have another chance.

 _Like we used to_ , Hyunsik said. If he just knew what that phrase means to Ilhoon as opposed to him, that they go back so much further than he will ever know. But it’s still a miracle that their paths had crossed once again, and Ilhoon reminds himself.

“How have you been, anyway? It feels like we haven’t spoken in months,” Hyunsik says as they’re making their way down the street.

“I’ve been alright, actually,” Ilhoon replies, and he sounds cynical but he means it. “And you? Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“Where do I start,” Hyunsik sort of laughs to himself, but nothing is funny. “She broke up with me a while ago, but I get it. I’m going nowhere and it was time to move on.”

“I’m sorry,” Ilhoon offers him, but he isn’t sure if the feeling inside of him is sympathy or, perhaps, the ability to relate at least a little. He just knows that it isn’t happiness.

“It’s alright,” Hyunsik says and if this is eating him up, he’s doing a good job of hiding it. “Things happen, that’s life.”

Probably. They reach the bar soon enough, and so here they are sitting in the same old seats with the drinks they would always get before Ilhoon had left for Japan. They clink their glasses together as if there’s something to celebrate and take a sip. The alcohol is warm along Ilhoon’s throat and it’s somewhat soothing in this blue night.

“I keep on wondering when I’ll start feeling like myself again,” Hyunsik says, setting down his glass. Of course, Ilhoon knows all too well how that feels.

“I mean,” he hesitates for a moment. “It’s normal to take time to move on from things like that.”

“You’re right. Losing somebody is never easy,” Hyunsik nods to himself.

“Yeah.”

“I guess we both know that.”

And while Ilhoon agrees, Hyunsik’s right here in front of him and it’s taking him back to where he had started – longing for him to be the person he had known. That’s never going to happen, no matter how close they could become from this point onwards. He had told himself that this would be it, anyway. A goodbye without actually saying it.

“I feel like I’m taking this better than I had thought I would,” Hyunsik turns to him, a look on his face that’s more peaceful than anything else.

“I was thinking that,” Ilhoon replies, and he tries to joke a bit, “I want to know your secret, to be honest.”

“Could be my philosophy,” Hyunsik shrugs.

“Oh yeah?”

“The thing is,” he stops to smile and there’s a sudden sense of minor apprehension. “In life, it’s never too late to start over, don’t you think?”

Ilhoon can’t seem to answer as soon as he’d like as Hyunsik’s gaze lingers, his eyes on his and it’s making him reconsider it all. He’s taken back to the longest nights at the studio, each and every one of those times when he was convinced that he couldn’t continue on, and he’s rarely at a loss for words like this. There comes a possibility in his mind that maybe, just maybe, this isn’t supposed to be the end.

“You could be right.”

But once again the night progresses into morning and they must part ways until their next meeting. While the thought of it had previously torn him up like nothing else, the possibility of a next time now seems rather comforting instead. They say their goodbyes and not much more when Ilhoon can’t find the exact words he would like to tell Hyunsik. He heads off in the opposite direction and he still feels unfulfilled in his heart, but as Hyunsik had said this could simply be a new beginning.

Ilhoon consoles himself as he walks on, reminds himself that not all hope is lost. Then he turns around when he hears his name.

“Ilhoon-ah,” Hyunsik calls out like he used to, back before they had even met in this life. He comes closer before continuing, “if you don’t mind me asking, do you have any idea when you’ll be free again?”

Perhaps that’s what he had wanted to hear, for he sighs as a wave of relief, or even exhilaration runs through him.

“I’ll let you know,” Ilhoon nods, and he lifts his phone out of his pocket and points at it, thankful that he hadn’t made the decision to delete Hyunsik whether that was in fear or strength. He thinks he could be smiling a little and, if he is, he actually wouldn’t mind it.

“Then, I’ll be waiting,” Hyunsik smiles back at him, and he’s off again.

Even if it takes all of the time in the world to be anything like what they were, Ilhoon may be up for a second chance. He clutches his phone tight, as if letting it go will mean losing what they have between them now, and of course this wouldn’t have been his first choice if he could just go back, but he found Hyunsik once more. Against the odds, he’s at least been given this and maybe that’s enough for him now. He isn’t going to get much else.

He locks the door of the dorm behind him and he leans back against it, overwhelmed with thoughts he’s trying to make coherent. He checks his phone and Hyunsik hasn’t said a thing, but he pulls up their conversation and he types without thinking it through.

 **[01:36] ilhoon:** what would you say about composing a song or two with me?

 

 

 

 

(On a lazy kind of day, things are moving slowly in the studio. They’re taking it easy – it’s not like they’re in any rush with this ongoing hiatus. Ilhoon sits back on the couch, and Hyunsik stops what he’s working on to join him. He lies down and rests his head on Ilhoon’s lap, gets a bit more comfortable as if he’s going to use him as a pillow and sleep right there and then.

“Ilhoon-ah,” Hyunsik calls out, looking up. “Do you think it’s possible that we’ll always be together?”

He didn’t expect to be hit with that, but he’s curious, “Mmm, why do you ask, hyung?”

Hyunsik shrugs, “I’m just wondering,” he laughs to himself like he’s being foolish and he knows it, but Ilhoon doesn’t think so at all. “I want to know if I’m out of my mind or not.”

“Well, realistically, the answer should be no, right?” Ilhoon supposes. “But, I don’t know, somehow I think we will.”

“That’s what I was thinking too,” Hyunsik reaches for Ilhoon’s hand and tightens his grip once it’s within his hold. It’s warm and firm – an old, familiar feeling he’s felt over a thousand times before.

And Ilhoon squeezes back, “Then I’m glad we can agree on that.”)


End file.
